I was walking through one of those brightly-lit tunnels they put up at construction sites. Coming the other way were two goofy-looking men in baggy hoodies and sneakers. One of them said, "Mmmm, girl, I been lookin' for you all night!" in a growly, enthusiastic voice. I laughed. It's been a while since I've gotten a line that cheesy, and I thought it was funny. I didn't take it seriously.
The two men walking right behind them were wearing nice button-down shirts. They looked like men who frequented expensive bars, and have conversations about politics and business. "You're smiling?" one muttered, disgusted, as he passed me. And just like that (uh-oh) I was ashamed.
What, why can't I smile or laugh? Do you think they're "disrespecting me", and it's wrong to smile? ...How should I react, then? Should I ignore them? But guys do this all the time, and ignoring doesn't work. It just makes me seem scared and submissive. Should I do it because I'm a Lady? ...Who says you get to tell me what being a Lady is?! ...Okay, okay Anna, turn the brain off. Who cares what he thinks? Who cares!
It was strange, but the subtle behavior-correction bothered me a lot more than the overt come-on.
Catcalls used to upset me when I first moved to New York. (I ignored them. This didn't help.) But then, after a while, I started laughing, joking, and heckling back. And now, it doesn't get under my skin at all. (NOTE: I'm talking about interactions in "safe" public spaces, e.g. a crowded street or train. If I'm alone, you can bet that I take the potential threat of assault seriously.)
If the guy is a banterer - "You look lovely today, miss!", or "How you doing tonight!" I'll just say, "Thank you!/Good!" and flash a big smile, and keep walking, spirits high. If he follows that up with, "Oh, can I take you out on a date?" I say, "Nope!" in a cheery voice and keep walking, spirits still high. And most of the time, they'll call out, smiling, "Okay! You have a lovely evening!"
Most guys who catcall are like this, in my experience. It's a kind of burlesque, a patter, a joke exchange. I can laugh at them and walk away, and they will smile, because secretly that's all they want - an audience. It's as silly, and harmless, as a dance number in a Rogers & Hammerstein musical. They seem almost relieved when I'm not offended. I think they might fall over in surprise if I actually flirted back.
...And then there are the creepers. Particularly the ones who say nothing, but stare. I'll be on a train, feel someone's eyes, and look up; and a fifty-something man with grey hair is boring holes into me with his expressionless face. They have good stamina, these starers. They don't look away. Their goal seems to be to intimidate; unlike the other guys, they're not looking for common ground. Most of the time, I think, these guys see themselves as dark and tragic figures, sort of like the Phantom of the Opera. Lots of self-pity. "Nobody likes me! My sexuality will overcome you! I am the Dark Lord of Love!"
In these situations, the best line of defense is to confuse them, or make the moment absurd and funny. I don't ignore them, I don't attack; I go gonzo. I might furrow my brows up like Bert from Sesame Street, or bare my teeth like a tiger and wiggle my fingers, or smile and wave in a really cheesy way. Once I stuck my tongue out at a middle-aged European tourist. This confuses the hell out of them. They look away, or blush.
You see, it all falls apart if I make a silly face, because that's not how I'm supposed to act! I'm supposed to be scared! I'm supposed to be offended, a "stuck-up bitch". I'm supposed to act like I'm "too good for them", and reinforce their belief that women are otherworldly, godlike, vapid, wicked creatures. I'm supposed to take it very seriously, because their desire is serious, it's big and powerful, more powerful than me! Don't I understand that?
(This last bit, I think the two buttoned-up gentlemen would agree with. Which is why I got mad.)
When dealing with a creeper, I don't give a good goddamn about acting like a lady. (I don't in general, but.) I don't mind grossing out a persistently creepy man so he'll be repelled or embarrassed and leave me alone. I'll spit on the sidewalk, make an ugly face at them, invent an obscene gesture, do a weird dance. I go wild, in a way that's more "Wild Kingdom" than "Girls Gone Wild". I enjoy seeing the look of shock on their faces. "Hey! No fair!" it seems to say. "You're not allowed to do that! You're not acting like a woman anymore!"
And when I do that, I get to break out of the box labeled "girl object" for a little while. If I laugh, if I spit, if I make eye contact and a crazy face - I surprise them. I make them realize I wasn't what they thought. I'm bigger, stranger, braver, and funnier than they imagined. They are so shocked when this happens. I don't care about retaliation - I'm not trying to wound them or get back at them, or defend my honor. I don't need to bring out the big guns, because their leering is just not as scary or tragic as they think it is. I simply want them to know I am here and I am laughing.
But if I walk by tight-lipped and offended, and stare straight ahead, and pretend to ignore them... the heckling increases. The dirtiest things that have ever been said to me were delivered when I tried to ignore someone. A guy wants attention, I ignore him, he gets angry, sees me as a "stuck-up bitch", and amps it up - I ignore him, he becomes enraged, it gets more intense.
The worst thing about silence is that it's passive; it telegraphs fear. It turns me into a china doll, immobile and pinch-lipped and perfectly feminine. And they think I am afraid, and treat me as if I am. If I am silent, if I pretend to ignore someone that's bothering me, I give in to his reality. I submit to the assertion that I am whatever he thinks I am. With my silence, my refusal to engage, I confirm that I am mute, and his desire is voiced. And I become an object all over again.
So I don't ignore, but I don't attack, either. I refuse to play the game on his terms. I flip the dynamic between us into something absurd or funny or grotesque, and make him see the world through MY eyes. Maybe one of these days when I pull a funny face, one of those Dark Lords of Romance will crack up laughing, and not take themselves so seriously. Who knows.
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